Don’t steal. It’s not nice ‘yo

No, I’m not feeling like P. Diddy, which honestly, is nothing short of a tragedy.

But I am cranky as hell.

And to make matters worse?

There is that damn cup on the side table.

A cup of water that hasn’t been touched since 10 pm the night before.

The ice is melted, it’s nearly overflowing and it’s just sitting there.

Oh my god, that cup.

My husband is…

Oh, he is a lot of things. A lot of things; funny, incredibly sexy, (very) easily distracted. He is also a creature of habit, so although he doesn’t actually drink from it, he brings a cup of water with him to bed every. single. night.

And then, in the morning? He leaves it there. And in the mornings, I’m usually in too much of a rush of diaper changes and breakfast servings to think twice about it, so I leave it there as well. By 1030, when it has completely slipped my mind, Caitlin sneaks into the bedroom where she knows there is a cool glass of water, just sitting, waiting.

Before I know it, water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. And why? Because it’s all over the bed. Or on the floor.

At that point I want to set the effing house on fire because I am so tired of dealing with these cups.

Those effing cups.

It’s been a while, so I figured I would do Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop for old times sake. Today’s post topic? A pet peeve that drives you crazy that probably shouldn’t. The cups probably shouldn’t make me want to suffocate my husband, but they so do.

Caitlin has a radar for things she’s not supposed to touch. In fact, this morning she broke my mom’s reading glasses after telling her a million times to put it down. Ugh, I’m seriously exhausted. Hahaha